


Being Supernatural

by Calminaiel



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Costume Party, Costumes, Fancy Dress, there's really no substance here, this was just fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 03:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11283045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calminaiel/pseuds/Calminaiel
Summary: Mitchell has an idea when the local pub announces a fancy dress night. The others humour him.





	Being Supernatural

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little un-beta'd ficlet that I thought would be fun.

“Jesus!” George yelped as Mitchell suddenly popped round the corner with a mischievous smile on his face. “Between you and Annie-”

“I’ve got a mad idea!” Mitchell grinned, cutting him off as he held up a white duvet cover. 

“New bedding?” 

Mitchell laughed, “Remember how we talked about going to that fancy dress night down at the pup?” 

George regarded the vampire with undisguised skepticism, “You want to go as a duvet?”

“No! For Annie!” Mitchell said, giving him a smack. 

“You want Annie to go as a duvet?”

“I want Annie to go as a ghost!” Mitchell looked so pleased with himself that George had no choice but to scoff. 

“Hilarious, Mitchell.”

Mitchell’s smile faded slightly and he furrowed his brows, “I’m serious.” He leant in closer and gave George a knowing look, “I’ll find a cape and some Brylcreem, you can buy some paste-on sideburns and rip up an old shirt… It’d be fantastic!”

“It would not-” a few nearby shoppers looked toward them and George hastily dropped his voice, grabbing Mitchell’s arm and forcing him down into the relative privacy of the aisle. “It would  _ not _ ,” he continued at an insistent whisper, “be fantastic. We’re trying to blend in!”

“And it’s a fancy dress night, George. Everyone will be in fancy dress…That’s sorta the point.”

“It invites too much suspicion!” George hissed. 

“Seriously? It’s the opposite of dangerous. In fact, anyone who accuses us of anything after that will seem mental!” Mitchell leaned back and watched George carefully. 

“You’re willing to take that risk?” George still looked mortified, “You’d put us all in danger just so we could have some sort of private joke?”

Mitchell glared at him, “and why shouldn’t we have some fun? It’s not any more ridiculous than going as zombies or footballers!”

George shook  his head firmly, “Let’s ask Annie. She may not even want to go!” 

 

***

 

“Alright, both of you can shut up.” George crossed his arms in frustration. Mitchell had told Annie his idea and she had, of course, loved it. Now they were both sat on the couch laughing their arses off while he was stood in the middle of the room like a twat. “Fine. But I am  _ not  _ taking responsibility for whatever happens as a result of this… this  _ stunt _ .”

Annie wiped her eyes and wrapped her cardigan around herself, “Oh, come on, George!” She smiled at him, “It sounds like fun. No one will know! They might not even be able to see me.” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t think you need to worry about it.”

“I just don’t understand… we’re trying so hard to be- well, not to be  _ us _ , but now we’re talking about flaunting it in front of them.”

“Come off it, George. It’s hardly flaunting it.” Mitchell shook his head, “it’s just playing up how naive their stereotypes are. I can’t remember ever seeing you in flannel, Annie’s certainly not just some hovering sheet… and it’s been decades since I wore a cape.” George couldn’t tell whether Mitchell was joking or not.   
“Oh!” Annie sat up excitedly and punched Mitchell’s arm. “You should go as one of those Twilight vampires! All glitter and cheekbones…” 

Mitchell’s face screwed up in disgust. “Don’t even joke about that, Annie.”

George had to smile in spite of himself at that. “Fine.” he sighed, groaning as Annie leapt up to give him a hug. 

 

***

 

Mitchell swore as he left another party shop empty handed. They were leaving for the pub in less than 4 hours and the other two had already figured out what they were wearing. Annie’s had been easy, they’d gone back to Argos and bought the duvet cover Mitchell had seen, she cut a pair of holes in the middle and draped it over herself. In typical George fashion, and despite his misgivings, he’d also managed to throw himself into the project. He’d found an online shop that sold stick-on fancy dress facial hair. He’d bought himself a huge, Tolkienesque dwarf beard and spent the better part of the week gone cutting and pasting together bits of ginger hair. He’d gone to half a dozen charity shops trying to find just the right shirt to rip to shreds. All in all, Mitchell was pretty impressed with their enthusiasm. He, however, was having a harder time than expected finding a “vampire” cape. Everything in the party shops was just wrong! He was picturing a full length, black satin cape with red lining, a collar that he could turn up… everything just looked so cheap or fake. “ _ That’s the point”  _ Annie had reminded him after he’d come home on the third day and flopped onto the couch. He knew it was, of course, and he knew he’d eventually just have to grasp the nettle and choose something. He had a smart white shirt that Annie had offered to press, plenty of black trousers to choose from. He’d had a row that morning with George about whether or not to buy fake fangs. He’d finally acquiesced and his one purchase of the day had been a pair of stupid plastic fangs that pinched his mouth and made it impossible to talk. That had, predictably, given George and Annie a good laugh and he’d made his escape under the guise of still needing to buy a cape. Now here he was, stood at the end of Broadmead without any clue where to go next. 

On a whim he turned down a side street and walked for a bit. He had very nearly decided to turn back and just settle on one of the capes he’d already seen when he saw a small charity shop halfway down the street with a sign in front, “Fancy a Fancy Dress Night?” 

_ Can’t hurt to try. _

 

***

 

“What time do you call this?” Annie called from the kitchen as Mitchell took the stairs two at a time. 

“Found it!” he called back to her, coming to a halt at the top of the stairs. 

George was standing in front of the mirror, almost done applying his faux hair. “You found it?”

Mitchell nodded and ducked into his room, stripping his shirt off and tossing the bag onto his unkempt bed. He smiled warmly as his eyes fell on his white shirt, pressed and hung on the wardrobe handle. 

He got dressed quickly and slicked his hair back with the Brylcreem, wrapping the cape around his shoulders after he’d finished lacing up his boots. 

“Ready?” George’s voice floated up the stairs just as Mitchell opened his bedroom door. 

“Nearly!” he called back, grabbing the ridiculous teeth off the chair where he’d thrown them that morning.

“In your own time.” Annie called with a wry grin as Mitchell came downstairs. She was holding her duvet cover standing next to George, who looked as if he’d just walked off the set of a B-movie. 

“You look amazing, George!” Mitchell said with a delighted laugh. 

“Mitchell!” Annie’s mouth was hung open, “That’s brilliant! You could be Count Dracula’s cousin!”

George grinned in spite of himself and Mitchell put his arm around him, wishing he could get a picture of them together. “You’re not, are you?” 

Mitchell grinned, “What about yours, Annie?”

Annie sighed, “Well I don’t look as great as you two! I’m just wearing a sheet!”

Mitchell’s voice adopted a pleading tone, “Oh, put it on! We want to see it!”

With another sigh she threw it over herself, taking a few seconds to find the eye-holes she’d cut. “How do I look?” Her voice was muffled beneath the sheet. 

Mitchell responded with a round of applause, while george nodded appraisingly. “That actually doesn’t look bad.” He mused, “It’s very... Scooby-Doo.”

“Ruh-roh!” Annie offered. 

“Best be off, then.” Mitchell’s cape swooshed through the foyer as he opened the door, “C’mon, you creatures of the night.”


End file.
